The Basement
by black.n.blu
Summary: Jordan is kidnapped, again. But this time she may not make it back alive. What will he do if worst comes to worst? JordanNigel. Rated as such just in case.
1. Over

This is my first fanfic so far, or at least my first one that isn't purely fluff. Please tell me what you think, and if something is wrong don't be shy, tell me. I want to know how to do better in the future. Though correction of spelling and other careless errors are not my point of expertise, so that won't change. If you like how this fic starts, I will continue it. Much appreciated!

Oh, and I suck and titles. Don't laugh at me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or it's characters. If I did, Nigel and Jordan would already be together, and Woody...well, let's leave him out of this conversation. That's why I write fanfiction.

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** The Basement**

**Chapter 1: Over**

**- Jordan -**

I walked quickly from the building, not really noticing much around me. People stared as I brushed past. I knew I must look bad; my face was surely burning red with anger. My breathing was heavy and my eyes were blurred with tears. I could tell that he was watching me go, could almost sense his eyes on the back of my head, looking on with satisfaction. I was too angry to care however. I didn't care about any of it anymore. It was over. Let detective Hoyt stare at me and smirk all he wanted, he was no longer my problem.

I brushed away some stray tears as I made my way up the street towards my car. I fumbled with my keys before I finally managed to get in and slam the door. Stealing a glance back outside, I could just see Woody turning away from his window.

_ Son of a bitch…_

I pulled my car angrily out of the parking space and up the street. I let my hands guide the steering wheel automatically, taking whichever path seemed right, leaving my mind free to wonder. It was probably a miracle that I wasn't in an accident because I was paying so little attention. It therefore came as a surprise when I found myself pulling into my usual parking space at the morgue. My original intention as I left Woody was to go back to my apartment, maybe get drunk off of some of the beers in the fridge, and sleep for what was left of the day. Although when I really thought about it, what I was looking for could not be found there. The morgue was more of a home to me than my apartment had ever been. Many of the morgue staff felt that way. What I needed was familiarity.

I got out of the car and walked through the doors. Just as my hands had been during the short drive here, my feet were on autopilot, taking me to the elevator and riding it up to my floor as I had done so many times before.

**- Nigel -**

My computer hummed in a familiar sort of way as I gazed out of the office door, lost in thought when I was supposed to be working. It was an annoying habit, and even more so when Dr. Macy caught me at it. He was out on call however, so I was safe for the moment. In fact, I was glad that I was doing it this time, because I saw Jordan go past.

My heart did a summersault, the way it always did when I lay eyes on her. To no one did I ever admit it, but I was secretly in love with Jordan Cavanaugh. I would never tell her though. I was in love, yes, but also smart enough to know that I was simply not her type. She belonged with someone like Woody, the macho detective sort, not me, the geeky computer-lover. I was also too scared, too cowardly, too afraid that I would be turned down. Yet every day that I spent with her I couldn't help but get that feeling. Watching her miserably on the days she was here and secretly longing for her company on her days off. And on that note, wasn't today one of her days off?

"Jordan!" I called. "What are you doing…" but she simply stormed past. Bad sign; something was up. My heart did another flip as I realized that no one else was here. I was the only one she could talk to, the only one who could help her.

I stood from my chair and walked quickly towards her office, knocking before slowly pushing the door open. Jordan was sitting at her desk, a drawer open and some paperwork laid out. Yes, Jordan doing paperwork on a day off was a very bad sign.

"Love?" I asked cautiously. "Jordan? Is everything alright?" She didn't answer, or even move. But I heard a distinct sniffling sound, and knew immediately that she was crying.

"Jordan," I said as I knelt quickly at her side, "what is it?" Her face was bent downward, long strands of chocolate brown hair falling in front of her, almost hiding her face. Yet I could still see the tears.

"Jordan, talk to me," I said, brushing her hair behind her ears with my left hand and placing the other comfortingly on her knee. "I know I'm not Woody," I began, "but I still…" I stopped abruptly as I heard a small wail escape her. The color drained from my face as I suddenly realized what was wrong.

_ Brilliant._

"Oh god Jordan, I'm so sorry. That was stupid. I'm sorry." To my surprise, she turned her face and looked at me. Tears were sliding freely down her cheeks. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and make the pain go away; it broke my heart to see her upset like this.

"It's not your fault Nigel," she said shakily, lowering her head again.

"Talk to me love," I urged her. "Let me help."

"It's nothing you can help with," she said, more shakily than ever. "It's over." I felt guilty as my heart skipped a beat. I didn't let my hopeful feelings show on my face as I said, "What happened?" She shook her head.

"He said things. Things that I can never forgive…" She was just short of sobbing now. Rarely had I seen Jordan break down like this, and I almost felt like crying myself.

"What did he say?" I asked soothingly, but she shook her head again.

"I…I'm not ready," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said quickly. "You don't have to say. Not now."

"Thank you," she replied softly. "It's too much. He went too far…" And she began to sob harder still. I couldn't just sit there. Slowly, I draped my arm over her shoulders and we stood together. We made our way to the couch where I put my arms around her, rubbing circles in her back while she cried into my shoulder. We were there for awhile, just sitting while she cried. Eventually she broke away from me and looked into my face. Tears were still falling from her eyes, but not nearly much as they were.

"Any better?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Thanks Nige. I needed that."

"I'm always here for you love," I replied. "And if you decide you want to talk about it later, I'll listen." She nodded and leaned forward. I gave her a brief hug and then asked, "Do you want me to drive you home? I have my motorcycle." She managed a smile.

"That sounds great." I smiled back and we walked out of the office together, her hand in mine.

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Sorry that I make Woody be such a jerk in here. It's easier to be mad at him if I do. And yes, he gets worse. _(evil grin)_ Review please! 


	2. Many Cans of Root Beer

**KittyDoggyLover- I don't think you have to be a Jordan/Nigel shipper to enjoy this one. Just beware that I'm planning on making Woody even more of a jerk later on. Just a heads up!**

**NadezhdaSt- I agree entirely. Sometimes it's hard to find things to read because nearly all of the fics here are Woody/Jordan. That's why I write things that are different. Yes there will be more, and it's okay if you turn into a Jordan/Nigel shipper. I am. Lol.**

**Mac3- Thanks, I'm doing my best with characterization. I'm afraid that it won't be as good now, because I'm no good at creating Nigel-isms. Or Jordan-Nigel-isms. Oh well.**

Thank you for your reviews! I rarely have a chance for others, besides friends and family, to see my work, so I wanted to make sure that I had something worth writing before I continued. I needed the confidence boost, which you have provided greatly, and I shall definately continue now! And I'll finish. (I hate fanfics where they have this great story and then they never finish!)

Sorry for my knowledge of the layout of Jordan's apartment in this chapter, or lack thereof. I've never really paid it much attention. Keep reviewing and I'll keep updating!

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**The Basement**

**Chapter Two: Many Cans of Root Beer**

**-Jordan-**

The wind dried what tears were left on my face as we sped along, and for awhile I was enjoying the ride too much to think about Woody. I loved riding with Nigel on his motor cycle. It was like an escape from the monotony of the real world, and right now I needed escape. I found myself wishing that I lived much further away as we pulled into the parking lot. As I stepped onto the pavement and removed my helmet, I noticed that Nigel was not following suit. Then I realized that he had probably been expecting to go right back to the morgue when I was safely at home.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later then Jordan," he said. "Call me if you need anything else." But I didn't really feel like being alone. Not now.

"Hey Nige?" I asked. "Do you want to come in? That is, if you're not busy."

"Oh," he said, "I dunno. I will if Dr. M will let me."

"Can you call him?"

In response, Nigel pulled out his cell phone and took a step or two away, turning his back. I waited patiently, listening to what he was saying.

"Hi, Dr. M?" Can I take the day off? …Yes, I know I took yesterday off as well, but something's come up with Jordan. …Yes, she's fine, but she wants company. …Yeah. …Thanks Dr. M." He closed his phone and turned, smiling, back to me. "It's all squared away. I've got the day off."

"Thanks Nige."

"No problem love." We walked up to my apartment together, hand in hand again. I was glad that he was staying. I felt better, but nothing could make me forget what Woody had said to me. I needed to fight back tears again as I relived the memory. I closed my eyes as we approached the door, concentrating on my breathing. Nigel must have noticed because he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I opened my eyes and gave him a small smile, handing over my keys so that he could unlock the door. He pushed it open and guided me to the couch. I sat gratefully, Nigel next to me.

"Do you want a drink love?" he asked. I thought for a moment about my original plan and getting drunk, releasing myself from the pain I was feeling. But I really didn't want Nigel to see me like that. I wanted to be able to have real conversation.

"There's some soda in the fridge," I said. Nigel nodded, gave my hand another squeeze, and walked to the kitchen. He returned moments later with two root beers, giving one to me and sitting down again. We began talking, about nothing in particular. Work, the weather, our favorite TV shows, food, fashion, and even our childhood, which was a bleak point for the both of us. Hours and cans of root beer went by as we talked and laughed, until the sun began to set, casting an orange light through the room.

**-Nigel-**

I saw Jordan yawn as the sun began to set. She'd had a big day; the sobbing had tired her out. We sat in silence for awhile, until I noticed a single tear running the length of Jordan's face. I slid next to her and draped my arm over her shoulders. She quickly made as to wipe the tear away, but I stopped her hand. Sometimes we need tears in order to let something go. She looked at me and then laid her head on my shoulder. My heart did another flip. More tears came as she cried silently, her eyes closed, while I held her to me. We just sat there for awhile longer, until I could hear Jordan breathing, deep and steady, and knew she had fallen sleep. Still I sat there, just watching her rest. She looked so peaceful in sleep; free of the tortures, the pain, the death that we both faced at our jobs every day. I sighed, and then slowly lifted her off of the couch. I carried her into the bedroom and laid her softly on the bed. I stood there, gazing at her for a moment, and then walked softly back into the other room. There I spread out on the worn couch. It was slightly too small for me, and part of my legs stuck oddly off the end, but it was comfortable. I grabbed some spare pillows that were lying haphazardly on the floor to prop my head against and closed my eyes, falling asleep quickly.

**-Jordan-**

I felt him lift me from the couch, clearly thinking that I had cried myself to sleep. His movements were gentle and cautious, as though I were something delicate that would break if mishandled, like glass. He set me down just as gently, not letting me jolt in the slightest as he laid me on the bed's surface, lightly and easily as if I were a feather.

Then he stood there, looking at me I could tell. I didn't hear him leave for at least a minute. Then he near silently made his way out. As he pulled the door almost closed behind him, I open my eyes and watched his retreating back. It was really great having a friend like Nigel. Through the toughest times he was always there for me; an arm around me, a shoulder to cry on. I smiled to myself, silently thanking him, before I drifted into sleep.

I awoke the next morning to the blood-red of sunlight shining through my closed eyelids and birds chirping familiar tunes in my ear. It must be late I thought sleepily. Then I sat bolt upright.

_Shouldn't I be at work?_

I hurtled quickly from the place that Nigel had left me last night and began frantically going through my closet, looking for something to wear.

"Morning love," I heard Nigel mutter sleepily from the door. "Aren't we the busy bee today?"

"Nige, why didn't you wake me up?" I asked while frantically thumbing through hanger after hanger, looking for a shirt. "We're already late."

"Whoa, slow down love!" Nigel said, putting a hand on my shoulder as I attempted to make a mad dash for the bathroom, my clothes in hand. "It's alright Jordan! Dr. Macy gave you another day off and is letting me come in late today. Relax!" I dropped the clothes that I was holding and took a step away from the closet. It didn't occur to me how tired I still was until I stumbled and found myself being saved from landing on my face by one of Nigel's arms.

"Easy love," he said. "Let's get you back to bed. C'mon." He led me over and I slumped down on top of the covers.

"Thanks Nige," I whispered. How many times had I said that now?

"It's no problem Jordan. You just rest a bit more." I nodded and closed my eyes again, falling instantly asleep.

I awoke again still later in the day. Slowly I rolled over onto my side and out of bed. Then, even more slowly, I made my way into the other room. Nigel was there watching TV. He looked up at me and smiled as I entered the room. "How're we feeling today?" he asked cheerfully. I shrugged; in truth, I didn't know how I felt.

"How about some breakfast then?" he asked. "Or rather," he looked at his watch, "lunch?" I nodded. Lunch sounded good.

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Sorry if my chapters are short! I just stop when it seems right. Keep reviewing please! 


	3. Random Statements and Statements of Reve

**Mac3- Thank you, I feel loved now. Lol.**

**Im perfectly imperfect- yes, more Woody bashing! My dad says I'm mean cause of it, but oh well. he's a W/J shipper. What does he know? Lol.**

**KittyDoggyLover- yeah, I know. I absolutely hate it when ppl do that! I read one that was a really good Nigel fic (figures) where he has this evil twin that wants to kill him. and it was never finished. I wanted to know what would happen so badly. I just wish that they, or anyone, would finish it. grr. I say again, I shall make sure that I finish this!**

**NadezhdaSt- always good to see a fellow shipper. Lol. Nigel is an awesome character. Many of my friends say he's UGLY! How can they say that? Grr, it bugs me. And you're right, we live in a much too J/W shipper infested world. At least there is us, defending the unusual. I think some ppl are coming to our side after the way Woody was in the season 4 finale/season 5 start.**

Thank you again for all your reviews, they make me feel fuzzy inside! The action actually begins in this chapter, so have fun! Wheeeeeeeeee!

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 3: Random Statements and Statements of Revenge**

**- Nigel -**

We went to McDonalds to eat. Neither of us felt that it was the best place to get food, but it was at least fast. I guess that's where they came up with the name "fast food." I ordered a Big Mac; Jordan got the chicken selects.

"It's the only thing I like here," she explained.

It was amazing that we still found things to talk about as we ate, yet we did. We laughed and joked and had more fun than I'd ever had at a McDonalds. At least since I was young enough to play in the play place that is. She was just telling me about something that she had done to a friend's cat when she was a kid, when I saw the smile leave her face, as suddenly as if it had simply fallen off. She stared grimly over my shoulder, and I turned around.

Woody had just walked through the doors across the room. I looked quickly back at Jordan and saw that her face was tense, prepared for battle. Woody was now waiting in the long line. He didn't seem to notice us at first. Finally he glanced around the room and spotted Jordan and I staring at him. His face became as tense as hers, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Then he turned his back and left the restaurant. I turned back and looked at Jordan. There was a very awkward pause. Then I dropped my gaze and took another bite of hamburger. As Jordan had already finished, she began flipping through he little tabletop menu that displayed all of the different types of coffee for sale.

"Did you ever notice," she said suddenly and unexpectedly, "that all of these seem to be made of different varieties of the same ingredients?" I raised an eyebrow at her. "No, really," she said, and began to read the menu. "Espresso: a shot of espresso. Cappuccino: a shot of espresso with steamed milk and whipped milk. Latte: a shot of espresso with steamed milk. What the hell? All they did to it was take the whipped milk away from the cappuccino, and now they call it a latte!"

I chuckled. This was only one of many things that I loved about Jordan: her irrelevant and even random statements, especially after moments such as the one provided by our dear Woodrow. Jordan had yet to tell me what he had said to her to make her break down like that, and I wasn't pushing her, though I was dying to know. She needed time.

After lunch we rode back to the morgue together. Though Jordan had the day off, I needed to get back to work. She told me that she was planning on visiting Max. This was a good idea in my opinion, even though I was reluctant to end our time together. I had enjoyed these two days in her company immensely, yet I said goodbye to her as I made ready to enter the morgue and she made ready to head to her car.

"Nige," she said as I was about to walk away.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything." I walked back to her and gave her a hug, which she returned gratefully. I savored her embrace until we broke apart a moment later. Then I smiled.

"Take care of yourself Jordan. And remember, I'll always be there for you. You can always talk to me." She nodded and smiled back. Then I turned and walked away, back to my job at the Boston Medical Examiner's Office.

**- Jordan -**

I watched him walk away from me, and found myself still smiling as I made my way to my car. Despite my argument with Woody, I had still found the last two days to be really great, all thanks to Nigel. There was no one else who could take what was originally going to be a day of drunken misery and turn it into enjoyable conversation and a lunch at McDonalds. Good old Nige. I walked quickly and joyously to my car, reliving our fun time at Mickey D's. I opened the door and got in, slamming it behind me, still thinking about today and yesterday's events.

That's when I felt the sudden chill of a gun being pressed into the back of my neck. Slowly, almost automatically, I raised my hands so that they were easily visible from the backseat.

"Drive," said a deep, male voice from behind me.

"Where to boss?" I asked, testing him. He jabbed the gun harder into my bare skin.

"Don't be smart," he said gruffly. "Just pull out." This guy wasn't playing around. I obliged, moving out of the parking lot and going up the street. I did what he told me, turning and swerving, and sometimes turning to go back in a completely opposite direction, all in silence. We went on like that for at least an hour, the mysterious gunman giving me directions and keeping a gun pressed to my neck the whole time. Finally he told me to pull into the driveway of a run down looking old house in an almost uninhabited neighborhood. This looked promising, I thought as I stopped the car in the driveway and waited.

"Get out," said the man, "and don't even think of running off. There's nowhere to go." I stepped slowly out of my car and stood there, facing the old house. It seemed so long ago by now, yet it had been warm when I left Nigel at the morgue. Here a chilly breeze blew through and I shivered slightly, wishing that I had a jacket.

I felt the gun touch my neck again and the one holding it said, "Walk." I bit back the retort that had been forming just behind my tongue and moved at gunpoint up to the old house, wondering just how many times I'd been through this routine before. I stopped at the front door, but got jabbed again.

"Open it," the gunman said and I pushed the door ajar, stepping inside. The interior was even colder than it was outside and I shivered again, at the same time realizing that I still had not directly seen my captor. I felt another jab.

"Keep moving," he said. "And don't try anything.

"You've got the gun."

He jabbed me for what felt like the eightieth time and I moved forward, thinking that I must have had a red mark on my neck by now. He directed me to a door off to my right and led me through it and down a flight of steps. We were going to a basement. I was shivering all over now; the temperature seemed to drop with each step. As we arrived at the bottom I took a look around. The basement was comprised of a single large room, entirely bare, no lights and no windows.

I turned and was able to see my captor for the first time. My breath caught in my chest as I recognized him. He was tall, at least as tall as Nigel. His dark brown hair was longer like Nigel's as well, though it was still not nearly as long as his, and it was greasy and unclean. He had a short beard and it was obvious that this man hadn't cleaned, shaved, or had a haircut in weeks. And I knew why, because I knew this man.

"So," I said, trying to sound cool and even, as though this happened every day, which was only a slight exaggeration, "what's the plan this time? Ransom?" He shook his head.

"This isn't about money," he said, nearly growling it.

"Then what is it about?" I asked, although I was sure that I already knew what his answer was going to be. He gave me an evil looking smile and said what I had been expecting, and yet dreading.

"Revenge."

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Dun dun dun! Review bitte! Danke! (Yes, that is German...or German-English...or Germlish. Lol. I don't know the German word for review!) 


	4. Without a Clue

**Mac3-Thanks, and you're right. I don't know how they say he's ugly.**

**KittyDoggyLover- Thanks. I try and update fast, because I know you are all so eager to read. (I feel loved!) **

**NadezhdaSt- Don't worry, you won't have to wait long to find out. I drink coffee, and I discovered that at my last trip to McDonalds. I'm not sure if I got it exactly right, but pretty much all their coffee is like that. My friends aren't W/J shippers. In fact, they don't watch CJ at all! Maybe that's why, because they don't know how cool he is. I don't care ifthey say he's ugly, because I know he's not. He's too awesome to be ugly. Lol. **

I realized something while looking at my stats: my chapters are getting longer! Lol. Oh well, I bet that makes you all happy. I truly appreciate the reviews, keep doing it. You learn a lot in this chapter, but I won't say any more. We still have a long way to go in this story! (I bet that makes you all even happier! Lol.)

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 4: Without a Clue**

**- Nigel -**

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" I jumped and turned to see Dr. Macy standing in the doorway. I flushed; he had caught me staring into space again. I had been thinking about my time with Jordan, reliving it within my head.

"Uh," I began, with no idea what I should say, but Garret held up a hand.

"It's okay," he said. "How's Jordan?"

"Alright I think. She went to go see Max."

"What happened yesterday?"

I thought for a moment before I said, "She wouldn't tell me directly, but it sounds like she had a fight with Woody."

"Ah," said Dr. Macy. "That explains a lot." He let out a long, low sigh. "Well, here we go again I suppose."

"Yeah. It appears that he said something really awful. Don't know what though."

"She didn't tell you?" I shook my head.

"I found her sobbing in her office. Said he'd 'gone too far' or something like that."

"Jordan sobbing?" asked Garret, alarmed. I nodded again. We just stood there for another moment, both of us thinking. Jordan was one of the strongest people I knew. She could stare down the barrel of a gun without fear, track criminals on her own without a second thought, and risk her life to help those around her without hesitation. To see someone like that simply break down was more than just unsettling, it was downright scary. Garret looked back at me.

"I should talk to her," he said. I nodded and picked up the phone, dialing Jordan's cell number. It rang several times before I got her voice mail.

"That's odd," I said aloud. Garret gave me a questioning look. I put down the phone again and said, "She's not answering her cell."

"Call Max," he suggested. I picked the phone back up and dialed Jordan's father.

"Max Cavanaugh."

"Hey Max, it's Nigel."

"I couldn't tell," he answered sarcastically.

"Can I talk to Jordan?" I asked, ignoring his comment

"Jordan?" He sounded puzzled, and my heart fell sickeningly. "I haven't seen her. Why are you asking me?"

I tried to keep my voice calm as I said, "She said that she was going to visit you. She left nearly two hours ago." Now there was a worried look on Garret's face and a worried tone in Max's voice as he said, "She's not here. Never was." There was a pause. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know Max. I hope so." I hung up the phone and said, "She never turned up, Garret." He walked away quickly and looked out the nearest window.

"Her car's not in the parking lot," he said. "Was it in her normal spot?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Right where she always parks." Neither of us could think of a good reason for why Jordan wouldn't go to Max's house when she said she would. At least, we couldn't think of a reason that we wanted to hear. I couldn't stop thinking that Jordan had been kidnapped, and it wouldn't be the first time. Just for something to do, I picked up the phone again and redialed Jordan's cell phone, hoping half heartedly that she would pick up. She didn't.

"She'll be okay Nigel," said Garret as I put the phone back down. I nodded, sincerely hoping that he was right.

**- Jordan -**

"Revenge?"

"Of course," he said. "You of all people should realize why. Don't you remember me Dr. Cavanaugh?" I did.

A month and a half ago, bodies started coming in. All of them had been identified as active members in a downtown gang, and all of them had been shot to death. I also suspected that they were all victims of gang rivalries, and eventually linked all of the murders, as well as a large drug ring, to one man. He was the leader of the rival gang in question, and responsible for the deaths. Yet it had taken considerable digging and snooping on my part before I was able to get any proof. And when I did, he went into hiding. This man was Alexander Mitchell, and he was standing right in front of me.

Woody had offered me protection, offered to assign me policemen to keep me safe until Mitchell was caught. I refused however. I didn't want to be surrounded by bodyguards for days, weeks, or possibly months until he was taken in, especially when I believed that Mitchell knew nothing of my existence. I realized now that I had been gravely mistaken.

"Yes," said Mitchell, "I see you do recognize me. You should, as you are the one responsible for throwing me into hiding!"

"So you're going to kill me?" I asked, still doing my utmost to keep cool. Mitchell smiled.

"Eventually," he said.

My mind instantly began racing, thinking. If he was planning to kill me anyways, did it matter if he had a gun? If I tried to escape and he was forced to shoot me, well, I was going to die anyways wasn't I? It may even be less painful that way; by the sounds of it Mitchell had some sort of excruciating torture planned. Whereas if I attempted escape, there was at least a small chance of survival.

As if he had read my mind, Mitchell said, "Oh, and don't think that my gun doesn't matter anymore, because your life is not the only one at stake. I have a hostage."

"What?" I asked, alarmed.

"A hostage, Cavanaugh. You must be slower than I thought. She is tied up in my room, and should you try anything, she will die." He smiled again, and it unnerved me. "I trust you will enjoy your _limited stay_," he said, with special emphasis on the last two words. And with that he turned and made his way back up the stairs and out of the basement, closing and locking the door behind him. I sat down blindly; without the light from the open door, the basement was pitch black.

My plan had been ruined. I had no way to know whether or not he was telling the truth, but if he really had a hostage, I couldn't risk her life, whoever she was, for mine. I would simply have to wait and hope that someone would be able to find me before Mitchell carried out his murder. I felt total helplessness, something that I had felt only twice before and had hope to never feel again.

I was also shivering; it was freezing down here. I regained my feet in the dark and felt my way into a corner of the room, where I lay down, curling into a ball on the cold stone floor. I lay there for hours in the dark, shivering and thinking about everything. Whether or not my friends would find me in time, the sort of painful murder Mitchell could be planning, how the ones I knew would handle it if my body was found, who would do the autopsy, and Nigel. I would have given anything to be back at McDonalds with him now. I didn't know why, or even if I was imagining it, but we it seemed grew closer in those hours spent together.

"I'll always be there for you." That is what he had said. I bitterly wished that he was here for me now, and had a strange feeling that he wished the same, (they must have realized that I was gone by now), and an unexpected emotion came over me as I thought of him. It was a mixture of sadness, longing, and…love.

I was shocked as the word penetrated my thoughts, and yet it seemed to fit so well. Love, and not just the sister-brother sort of way that Nigel and I had shared for so long. No, when I was truly honest with myself, I knew I was in love with him. I was also very confused. Never, not even once had I thought about even the remote possibility of me and Nigel as a pair.

_But has he?_

Another odd thought that had unexpectedly surfaced itself. My immediate thought was no, of course not. Nigel was a friend, nothing more. And then something occurred to me that had never occurred before. I stopped as I realized how stupid I had been.

At the morgue, Nigel was always the one to do me favors; run tests, hack into databases, etc. Every day I would go to work, and every day I would ask him to do things for me. Every time, no matter how much other work was piled on his desk, he would do what I asked. And I'd wondered before how he managed to get his work done when he spent so much of his time on me. I had also wondered why, why did he do it for me? I knew that he didn't do it for everyone else. It wasn't until now that I made the connection.

I suddenly realized how much I had taken advantage of him. All he ever did for me was favors and all I ever gave him in return was a, "Thanks Nige," or, "You're the best Nigel." Never did I do anything for him, and yet he continued to give. If something was wrong, he was always there. If I had trouble with Woody, which was a frequent occurrence, he would listen to my complaints, supporting and comforting me, and even giving me advice. I realized how hard it must have been for him, watching from the sidelines when he would probably have given anything to be in Woody's shoes.

Then a sudden and horrible thought struck me: I could never tell him. I was here, trapped, waiting for death, never to see Nigel again. As this unbearable idea sunk in, I began to cry. For the first time during one of the many kidnappings I had experienced, I cried. I had never feared what I would find after death, only what I would miss. Nigel had probably loved me for years, possibly since the day we first met. Now he never would know my feelings for him. He would live on, thinking that he had failed, forever regretting that he had not told me; thinking that I had died without a clue.

My face grew colder as the tears rolled over my cheeks and onto the floor, until eventually, I fell asleep.

* * *

No, the kidnapper is not Woody. I said he'd be a jerk, but not _that_ much of a jerk. It would make an interesting fic though. Anyways, review please! 


	5. Shock and Horror

**rae1112- NIGEY! steals I have read a lot of N/J fanfiction, including London After Midnight. That one was really, really good. Though it went into a little _too much_ detail at some points for my taste. (That's just not my style.) But it is really _the_ N/J fanfic of all N/J fanfics. Thanks for the fav!**

**NadezhdaSt- Yes, I feel very loved. Lol. And yes, I always have something up my sleeve. (Dun dun dun!)**

**Im perfectly imperfect- Wow...you really don't like Woody do you? Lol. He annoys me, but well, you take Woody hating to the next level! I could kill him to please you if you want. Lol. Why did Devan have to die? Then he and her could be happy and leave Jordan and Nigel alone. Hehe...**

This chapter is a little different. It's a bit shorter, and there's no Jordan in it, but there is Bug. And more of Woody being a jerk... I've started the next chapter already, and I think you'll like it! I'm writing and updating as fast as I can. Keep reviewing!

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 5: Shock and Horror**

**- Nigel -**

The hours crept by, and there was still no word from Jordan. I called her cell phone frequently, praying for a miracle and that she would pick up. Yet she never did. Of course the whole morgue knew by now that she was missing. I was in shock. Only hours ago I had been down there, in the parking lot next to my motorcycle, giving Jordan a hug and assuring her that I would always be there for her. But I wasn't there for her now. I was convinced that she had been kidnapped, and thought that if something happened to her I would never forgive myself for neither being there, nor for neglecting to tell her how I really felt. I promised myself then that if I ever saw her again, I would tell her at once. No more waiting, no more cowering.

Yet I knew that it may not happen that way. There was a good chance that I would never see her again. I tried not to imagine what could happen to her, yet images kept popping unexpectedly and unwanted into my head: Jordan, lying cold and pale on the pavement, covered in her own blood; Jordan being thrown limply over the edge of a dock into a lake. I gave myself a mental shake and closed my eyes. I mustn't think about that. It was too painful. I sighed and bent over in my chair, resting my head in my hands.

_Jordan, you've got to be alright. You've just got to be…_

I heard a gentle knock and glanced up to see Dr. Macy standing in the doorway.

"Can I come in?" he asked. I nodded, which I'd been doing a lot lately. He walked in and sat down, watching me silently until I finally raised my head and met his gaze.

"I know that you and Jordan have been close friends for a long time now. She and I were too. We're doing all we can to find her Nigel," he said.

"I know." I looked back at the floor. "I just don't know what I'll do if we can't, if we're too late…" I had thought this countless times in the hours after Jordan's disappearance. And yet it seemed to have a stronger effect when spoken aloud. I felt hot tears slide down my face. I didn't sob like Jordan had yesterday. (Was it really only yesterday?) And yet the tears came, swiftly and silently.

"Hey." I looked up and saw Lily walk in.

"Hey Lily," said Garret. "Look, could you stay with Nigel? I'm going back to help Bug."

"No," I said suddenly, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "I'm coming." Dr. Macy nodded, putting his hand on my shoulder as the three of us made our way out of the room.

"Hey Nigel," said Bug as we walked through the door.

"Have you found anything?" I asked hopefully, but Bug shook his head.

"Nothing. No way to tell where she went."

"She must have been kidnapped," I said, being the first to voice the possibility.

"We don't know anything for sure," Garret began, but I cut him off.

"Why else would she just disappear like that? I know that she's run off before, but she seemed fine when I left her. Absolutely fine…" My voice broke, and I found that I could go no further.

"But kidnappers usually call, or leave a message, some way that we can know how to pay for their hostage," said Lily. "It's been hours; they would have sent word by now."

"Unless they weren't after money," I said as terrible realization swept over me. There was a small pause. And then I saw Bug's eyes widen at the same moment that a grave look appeared on Garret's face. They understood.

"But then what could they possibly want?" Lily asked, still confused.

"Revenge," I said in a hollow voice. Lily stared for a moment, and then suddenly clapped a hand to her mouth. I could tell that all four of us were thinking the same thing. If Jordan's captor only wanted revenge, then it was highly unlikely that they would keep her alive this long. That meant that she was probably already dead, that we were already too late.

I stumbled into the nearest chair, numb with horror.

_Too late…_

How could that be? How could Jordan, the Jordan that was alive and happy only hours ago, be suddenly gone, her rich and colorful life extinguished. How could someone so brave and strong, someone who had survived so many past kidnappings and tragedies, simply die?

_But what if she's not dead?_

As I thought this, something flared in my heart. Dr. Macy was right: we didn't know anything for sure. There was hope.

But how much hope? My heart seemed to drop again as I thought about it. How much hope was there that she was still alive? If she was truly captured for revenge, why would she be kept alive?

_Maybe if they're torturing her. Keeping her alive and doing it slowly, until she dies..._

I shuddered. No, that was worse, far worse. Jordan would be better off dead.

_Better off dead…_

I buried my head in my hands and begin silently crying again. Lily walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's not over," she said softly. "We will keep looking. If there's any chance of finding her still, or at least the one who took her, we will keep looking." There was deep pain in her voice. I nodded slightly, too numb to do anything else. Garret spoke up.

"We need to start somewhere," he said. "We're all in shock right now, but we'll deal with it later. Right now we need to focus." I'd heard him say this on other occasions, such as when Devan was killed. He spoke calmly, without that pain that had been so obvious with Lily. For a moment I felt angry with him for his lack of grief. But as I looked up, looked into his face, my anger vanished. He was in pain, he felt sorrow. I could see it in his eyes.

"Bug," he said, "I want you to call Woody and tell him to look through some old files. We need to see if there would be anyone with a grudge against Jordan." Bug nodded and left the room.

**- Bug -**

I left quickly, heading towards the office that Nigel and I shared, thinking about Jordan. She was probably dead, we all realized that. It was a strange feeling. Jordan had always been so energetic, so full of life. And now all of that was just…gone. Vanished. Nigel seemed to be taking it particularly hard. They had been good friends for over a decade after all. I didn't blame him. I pushed the door open and grabbed the phone, dialing Woody.

"Hoyt," a voice answered.

"Woody? It's Bug," I said.

"Have you found Jordan yet?" he asked, and yet his apparent lack of concern surprised me greatly.

"No," I replied, "that's why I called. We think she's been kidnapped."

"Well that's new," he said sarcastically, again in an almost bored voice. It unsettled me.

"We need you to go through some old case files," I said. "Find someone, anyone, still at large who might have a grudge against Jordan."

"I can answer that right now," he said. "Alexander Mitchell: accused of leading a gang murder and drug operation. Jordan pretty much threw him into hiding for the last month and a half."

"Shouldn't she have gotten protection?" I asked, stunned.

"Didn't want it." Of course, I thought. It _was_ Jordan we were talking about after all.

"Do we know much about this guy? Anything we could use to find him?"

"Well," said Woody, "his gang mostly hangs out in an older neighborhood. I can give you the location if you want. Just gotta find the file first."

"Thanks Woody."

"I'll call back when I have them." He hung up.

* * *

NIGEY! 


	6. Safe In His Arms

**Orlando-crazy- Wow, apparently I have a lot of great chapters! lol.**

**pryrmtns- lol. Yes, he does. I was originally just going to have the entire fanfic be Nigel and Jordan, and I don't think I will branch off again, but I decided that I could best display that scene through Bug's eyes.**

**Im perfectly imperfect- yeah, I was a W/J shipper when I first began to watch CJ about a fourth of the way through season 4, and I was until the season 4 finale. Then I realized just how much of a jerk he was. Can I borrow that? (takes chunk of wood and hits Woody as well.) Hehe. You're right, that is ironic... Oh, and thanks for the personal compliment! **

** rae1112- you should feel special. Lol, jk. I'm updating as fast as I can. I never want to stop writing now (especially since I got to the good part of the story!) and I find myself adding things in the middle of school. I guess that's how it gets done so quickly! oh, and about your two conditions, 1. define suffer... 2. peppy nigey is way cooler!  
**

** Mac3- like I said, I don't think that I will branch off to Bug or anyone else again, but for that scene I thought it would be a nice change. But who knows?**

**KittyDoggyLover- Yes, Nigel does always care, and that's another reason why I like him so much. I love episodes like Forget Me Not where it really shows Nigel's caring side. It shows that he's more than he appears to be, that he feels pain and love like the rest of us and that he's not as odd as we think. (Even though I like oddness!)**

The action begins for Nigel as well in this chapter. Enjoy, and review please!

* * *

**The Basement**

**Chapter 6: Safe in His Arms**

**- Nigel -**

I sat there, still in utter shock, tears still sliding down my face. Lily walked away momentarily and pulled up a chair next to mine. She sat down and put a hand on my shoulder again. I glanced at her and saw that she had tears on her face as well. Garret wasn't crying, and I was glad. We needed someone strong right now. After a few minutes, Bug walked back in. Lily and I had both stopped crying by now.

"We've got a possible location," he said. "Woody's gonna call when he finds the file."

"How is he?" asked Lily beside me.

"To tell the truth," Bug said, "he sounds absolutely fine." I looked up at him.

"Fine?" I said, but Dr. Macy cut me off.

"I'm sure it just seemed that way," he said. "He's probably in as much shock as we are." But Bug shook his head.

"No," he said grimly. "I mean he sounded almost entirely unconcerned. Like it wasn't a big deal or something."

I found myself gripping the edges of my seat very hard, my knuckles white.

_Like it wasn't a big deal?_

Jordan had been kidnapped! She was most likely dead right now, her body lying in some alleyway or drifting at the bottom of a lake! How could it not be a big deal? They have one fight, one argument, and suddenly it's as if she's just another of the many victims that we see every day? Is this how Woody, the man that Jordan had loved for years, thought and felt? Was he that heartless?

"Nigel, are you all right?" Garret, Lily, and Bug were all watching me.

"Yeah," I said shakily. "I…I just need to be alone." I stood and walked quickly from the room, hiding my renewed tears. I arrived at my office about twenty seconds later. I sat down and began to cry all over again. How could Woody have been so cruel? And how could Jordan have ever loved him for all these years? I would never have done this to her. I would have made her happy…

The piercing ring of the phone interrupted my thoughts. I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Nigel, it's Woody." I felt my fists clench, but I kept my voice even.

"Do you have the location?" I asked. Woody gave me the directions to an older neighborhood, about an hours drive away, as I scribbled it all down on a slip of paper. Bug had been right, he did seem rather unconcerned, and it took all of my will power not to say something. I thanked him stiffly and hung up.

My original intention as I stood up was to go back and give the information to Dr. Macy and let him take care of it, but I didn't. I took the slip of paper and walked in the opposite direction to the elevator. I knew perfectly well that what I was doing was stupid, and I knew I could very likely get killed, but I didn't care. All I cared about at the moment was getting a hold of the creep that did this to Jordan. If there was even the smallest chance that she was alive, I would find her. If she was dead, I would make sure that her body was found, that she had a proper burial, and that the one responsible regretted it. I owed her that.

I stopped by my apartment on the way out and retrieved a gun from my bedside table. It had been years since I had last taken it out. I pocketed it, and then started the long ride to where I might find Jordan. It seemed to take an age to get there, and I grew more and more nervous every few minutes as I thought about what I was going to do. I wished briefly that I had told someone where I was going. Yet if I did, they probably would have tried to stop me, and this was something I needed to do. I smiled slightly as I realized that this was exactly the sort of thing that Jordan always did. I couldn't bring myself to think, "had always done." It was far easier to keep her in present tense.

Finally, I pulled into the neighborhood. I parked my motorcycle in the street and climbed off, shivering. A chilly breeze blew through and I pulled my jacket closer around me. Why was it so damn cold here? I made my way up the driveway of one house. It was old and run down, like most of the houses here. My plan was to ask around, see if anyone had seen Jordan's car. At the first house, I got no response. I got the same from the second. An old woman in the third said that she "hadn't seen nothin," and snapped at me to get off her property.

_Nice neighborhood…_

I was unsuccessful at the fourth house as well. And the fifth. And the sixth. If someone was actually home, they said that they hadn't seen Jordan's car, and none matched the description of the man that Woody had given me. I was beginning to think about giving up, and yet I kept going.

I walked slowly up the driveway of the ninth house and rang the doorbell. The door opened, and I found myself taking a step backwards. The man who had answered was as tall as me. He had long, brown, greasy hair and a short beard. He fit the description perfectly, and he also had a gun.

_Bloody brilliant…_

"I've heard that you're asking around Mr. Townsend," he said. I gulped, he knew who I was. He held out his hand and jerked his gun expectantly. I glared, pulling out my own gun and handing it to him. He smiled and then stepped back from the door. "In," he said. I obeyed and stepped over the threshold. Damn, it was even colder in here!

"Where is she?" I asked forcefully as he led me to a door off to my right. He didn't answer, only unlocked the door and shoved me roughly onto a flight of stairs.

"What have you done to Jordan?" I yelled, but he merely pushed me again so that I stumbled down a few stairs more. I took the hint and kept going. When I reached the bottom I turned and saw him make his way back towards the open doorway.

"Where is she?" I shouted up to him again, desperate for an answer, but too late. He simply shut and locked the door behind him, leaving the basement in total darkness.

**- Jordan -**

I awoke to the sound of shouting above me. I didn't open my eyes however. I didn't want to wake up, didn't want to face the cold of the room or the pain and regret in my heart. I heard more shouting and saw a faint light creep through my closed eyelids. I gave in and opened them. Squinting I saw, silhouetted against the light from the open door, two figures, both of them tall. One of the figures made his way to the bottom of that stairs and looked back up quickly to see the other retreat towards the open door.

"Where is she?" I heard him shout towards the figure at the top, and as I regained full consciousness, I realized that the words uttered had been in an all too familiar British accent. As the door closed and we returned to pitch blackness, I heard the man slump to the floor. Then I heard faint sniffles. He was crying.

"Jordan," he muttered to himself, "I'm so sorry…"

"Nigel?" I said softly. I was weak from cold and hunger. The sniffling stopped abruptly. It sounded as if he wasn't even breathing.

"Jordan?" he said uncertainly. I managed to get to my hands and knees and crawl towards his voice, my arm outstretched, hardly daring to believe it was him. My hand suddenly connected with his left shoulder. I moved it up his neck and then ran my fingers through his long hair. I needed to know that it was him.

"Nigel," I whispered, a mixture of sadness and joy washing over me. I heard him give a long sigh, and then he put his arms around me in the dark. I welcomed them gratefully.

"Jordan," he murmured. "Oh God, Jordan…"

We sat there for a long time, simply embracing each other. A part of me was overjoyed to have him there. I could tell him. Finally, I could let him know my true feelings. And yet another part of me felt guilty, terribly guilty for bringing him here. He had obviously come looking for me, and now he was trapped, just like me. And just like me, he would probably die. It was my fault if he died. I began to cry again. Nigel reached up and wiped my cheek with his thumb, speaking softly in my ear. His voice was soothing.

"Nigel," I whispered finally. I had meant to say something along the lines of, "you shouldn't have come," or, "I'm so sorry that I got you into this," but somehow the words got mixed up on the way to my mouth and all I managed to say was, "I'm cold." Quickly he unzipped his coat and pulled it off, shivering as the cold air hit him. He then proceeded to undo the removable inner lining and pull it out. He put this back on himself and draped the slightly thicker outer lining over me. He put his arms back around me and held me more tightly to him. Eventually we moved to one of the corners, where Nigel put his back to the wall and I laid my head on his chest. Slowly, we fell asleep, and for the first time since I had been kidnapped, I felt safe.


	7. Precious Time

** rae1112- I thought the cold remark would be nice. I didn't feel like having them reveal their feelings just yet, though I could have done it then. And I think this chapter, and the next, will be the real climax. I won't say any more though!**

**Im perfectly imperfect- I didn't mean the joke, I meant can I borrow the chunk of wood to hit Woody with. (hits Woody again and gives chunk of wood back) I've never been much of a G/J fan. he's too much like a father in my opinion. though I guess one could argue that Nigel is too much like a brother. Lol. Oh well. G/J is way better than W/J! Woody is too much of a jerk!  
**

**Mac3- Yes, scenes like that are very fun to write for some reason. **

**pryrmtns- lol. Woody shall always be a jerk. **

**KittyDoggyLover- Yes, what he did was very rude, to say the least. My dad doesn't agree, and it bugs the crap out of me!  
**

**Orlando-crazy- Lol. Thank you.**

This is one of the chapters that I couldn't wait to write. (Climax's are fun!) Enjoy!

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 7: Precious Time**

**- Nigel -**

I knew that I would never forget the moment when I found her. The icy cold of her skin, the weakness of her voice, the desperation in which she clung to me, would all stay burned in my memory for however much longer I lived. It was a scar. I don't know how long we sat there. Neither of us had watches so we could never tell what time of day it was. We would sleep when we were tired, wake up again minutes to hours later, always in the black and the cold. I learned what it must be like to be blind. There was no escape from the darkness, and I felt oddly trapped.

"Jordan," I said quietly, preparing myself for what I was about to tell her, for I had not yet revealed my secret love for her. "Love?"

"Yes?" she whispered back. I took a breath.

"There's something I need to say. Something that should have been said a long, long time ago, that I promised myself that I would tell you if I saw you again." Good God, this was difficult. Jordan ran her hand across my cheek.

"You don't need to tell me," she said softly. "I already know." This shocked me so much that I could neither say nor do anything for a few seconds.

When I regained my voice I said, "You know?"

"Yes," she replied, "and it took me this long to figure it out. We've been friends for what, ten years? It took me that long to realize it." She seemed almost in tears. "But I realized something else as well," she continued, "before I knew how you felt about me. I realized how I feel about you." My heart skipped a beat as she brought her face close to mine.

"I love you," she whispered. I found that I had stopped breathing and quickly started again. We sat there for a moment.

Then I said, "You do?"

"Yes," she said. "And I'm sorry. I've not only neglected you, but also taken advantage of you. You'd do anything for me. I used that far too often. And I never realized, not until now…oh God, I'm so sorry Nigel. So sorry…" She was crying again, and I pulled her closer to me.

"Love," I said soothingly, coming out of my shocked state. "Love, please, don't cry. It's alright Jordan. It's always been alright. Don't cry." I felt her move her head and could tell that she was looking at me, or as close as she could come in the dark. Slowly we moved towards each other until our lips touched. I suddenly found myself kissing her deeply, and Jordan kissing just as deeply in return. I was in shock again. I had dreamed of this moment for over ten years, and finally it came as I never thought it would. We continued our kiss for awhile, both of us reluctant to end it. Eventually we pulled away from each other. I was smiling and could tell that she was doing the same. I didn't know how much time we had left to live, but I knew that it would at least be the happiest time of my life. Because now I had Jordan.

**- Jordan -**

Time passed considerably easier now that Nigel and I were together. I started to figure that Mitchell's plan for murder was simply to let me starve to death in the dark and the cold. Nigel would probably suffer the same fate. Well, at least it wasn't nearly as painful as I had imagined, and it meant that there was more, not much, but more, of a chance that we would be rescued. It also meant that if it came to it, as it most likely would, I would probably die before Nigel. This was a good thing; I didn't want to have to watch him die. It would be too much. I still felt guilty that he was here.

There was no way to know exactly how much time had passed, yet it must have been days. Both of us were starved and weak, for neither of us had had anything to eat since McDonalds. I didn't know how much longer we would last. Nigel's large coat, or rather, coats, helped a bit, but it wasn't enough to keep the bitter cold at bay, and we were almost constantly shivering. We never moved from our spot in the corner, trying to conserve as much body heat as possible. Even so, I knew I was likely to pass out soon, possibly within a couple of hours. I realized that I would never see Nigel's face again, for my eyes hadn't adjusted much to the darkness.

Yet just as this thought crossed my mind, the door opened and light flooded in. I blinked and squinted, not used to the brightness. When I was able to see again, I saw Mitchell coming down the stairs. I took opportunity to look at Nigel, to see his face, to look into his eyes, for the first time in days. His hair was frizzy and out of place and he looked distinctly unshaven. I knew that I couldn't look much better, but I didn't care. When Mitchell reached us, I saw he was carrying two plates of bread and cups of water.

He set these down in front of us, and said gruffly, "Here. Enjoy it while you can."

"So you're not starving us to death," I said with as much strength as I could muster. Mitchell smiled.

"You wish," he said in a voice of pure evil. "I have a much more painful death planned for you Dr. Cavanaugh." I felt Nigel tighten his arms around me slightly. Great, I thought. We were back to the torturous murder again.

"As for you Dr. Townsend," Mitchell continued, "you're simply an intruder in all of this, and will not have to endure such a painful death as Dr. Cavanaugh. Yet you will still suffer. You will be hung." I felt Nigel stiffen slightly. He took a deep breath.

"When?" he asked weakly. Mitchell grinned the evil grin that I had come to hate so quickly.

"Tomorrow," he said calmly. It was my turn to tighten my arms around Nigel.

_Tomorrow?_

"And when exactly is tomorrow?" Nigel asked determinedly.

"Oh, of course," said Mitchell. "I'd forgotten that you lose sense of time down here. Let me put it this way: you have about eight hours left to live Townsend. Enjoy it." He turned abruptly and left the basement. Nigel and I took one last look into each other's eyes before we were plunged into blackness once more.

"Nigel," I whispered breathlessly. "Oh God, Nigel…" He tightened his arms around me again.

"Shh," he said soothingly as I began to cry again, my face against his chest. "It's alright Jordan." But it wasn't alright. Eight hours. He had only eight hours left to live. Eight hours for us to be together. I hadn't been planning on living after Nigel's death. I had thought that I would be gone before then. But now I would see him suffer. I would stand there and watch him die.

I had been hoping that he would be there for me, his strong arms there to comfort me through my own death. I had hoped that the last thing I heard would be his voice, the last thing I felt, his warmth. But no, the last thing I heard would probably be my own screams or Mitchell's insane laugh as he tortured me, my last feeling, blinding pain. And now my shivers were not purely from the cold anymore, but also from fear. I buried my head further into Nigel's chest as he rubbed my back with one of his hands.

_Eight hours…_

The time, which seemed to snail by before, was suddenly going at double speed. I fell asleep at one point, which I regretted after waking up several hours later. Time was too precious. Nigel and I spent his last few hours talking, comforting each other mainly. I cried more than once as the clock ticked slowly towards the end of Nigel's life. He didn't seem remotely afraid, seeming more concerned about me than him. This didn't change even as we saw the door open and Mitchell coming downstairs with, to my horror, a length of thick rope and a small stool. I tightened my grip on Nigel, and he did the same for me. It just couldn't be time yet. It just couldn't be over…

"I hope you've enjoyed the last few hours of your life Dr. Townsend," Mitchell said with yet another evil grin, and a wave of pure loathing washed over me. I watched, terrified as he tied the rope to one of the support beams and beckoned Nigel over. I felt him give me one last short squeeze before he stood and walked slowly and calmly to where his own death lay. I stood up as well as Mitchell tied the rope tightly around Nigel's neck, who was standing on the stool. Then Mitchell took a step back.

"Last words?" he said gleefully. My eyes were brimmed with tears as I stepped forwards and took Nigel's hands in mine, each of us clinging tightly to the other's.

"Nigel," I whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"No," he said, "it's not your fault. I didn't have to come for you."

"But you did," I insisted. "You did come. And now…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Jordan," he said soothingly. I looked into his eyes as more tears cascaded down my face. "Listen to me. I would rather die now than live on and never have been able to see you again, to never know how you felt about me."

"I love you," I said shakily, unable to keep the grief from my voice. Mitchell chuckled, but we ignored him.

"I love you too Jordan," Nigel said. "More than anything." He scooted back a bit on his stool and I stepped in the space that he had cleared, pushing myself up on one foot. He reached up and gently brushed some of the tears off of my face. For a moment, we simply looked into each other's eyes. Then our lips came together in a passionate, almost desperate, kiss. We held it for as long as we could, until Mitchell finally pulled me roughly away.

I turned to him and said, "Let me hold his hand." To my surprise, Mitchell nodded.

"I don't care. It's you who I want to suffer Cavanaugh. However," his evil grin made a reappearance, "you will kick the stool." I felt my whole body freeze, and for a moment I couldn't breathe. I was numb, paralyzed, shocked. Mitchell laughed as he saw my eyes widen in horror. He pointed his gun at me.

"Now." I turned towards Nigel, who gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

"It's alright love," he said. Tears were rolling down his face as well as mine now. I turned and looked almost desperately at Mitchell, who simply jerked his gun in a way that told me he wanted me to get a move on. Nigel gave my hand another squeeze. I looked back at him, my vision blurred with bitter tears, and he gave a nod. I paused for one last desperate moment, staring into his eyes, then I put one foot against the rim of the stool.

"I'm sorry," I said, and shoved it away.

* * *

How's that for a cliffhanger? Lol. Sorry for the overabundance of Jordan. Review and I'll update soon! 


	8. A Few Seconds

**eternalgorithm- I just had to comment that I love your pen name. It made me stop and think for a moment.**

**Mac3- Cliffhangers are fun to write, terrible to read. I guess that's why people write them so much! **

**KittyDoggyLover- I changed overnight. Well, almost. It was that one ep that changed me, though it took a little thinking (and a debate with my dad) before I decided that I didn't like Woody anymore. I manage to update fast, even with school, because I write _at_ school. Lol. It's so much easier to do under the teacher's noses than reading, because you don't have a book proped open, advertising that you're not listening. I write almost my whole chapter at school usually, and sometimes a little bit the night before.**

**rae1112- (dodges tomatoes) yes, I dare. cliffies are so much fun! Hehe. (yes, your nigey's being hung.) **

Well, here you go. The answer to the wonderful cliffhanger that took place at the end of last chapter. Have fun.

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 8: A Few Seconds  
**

**- Nigel -**

I shuffled back slightly, allowing room on the stool for Jordan to stand. She put her foot there and lifted herself to me. We took a moment to stare sadly into each other's eyes. God, her eyes were beautiful, even when they were wet and shining with tears. Then we brought our faces together and kissed, kissed like it was the last kiss of our lives, which it was. How I would have loved for that moment to last forever, for time to suddenly stop so that we could kiss into eternity and never have to face what was coming. I was seconds away from death, yes, but what about Jordan? By the sounds of it, her death would not be as easy as mine. She was going to suffer, and I winced as I thought of the different methods of torture that I had seen in all the bodies that had ever arrived at the morgue. Both of us would probably be in the crypt soon, Jordan in one drawer, marked with hideous signs of torture. And then me in another drawer, my body marked with nothing but a large rope burn around my neck. Life really sucked sometimes.

We were forced out of our kiss as Mitchell pulled Jordan away. She still gripped my hand however as she turned to him and requested that she could continue holding it. He agreed, and my heart lifted very slightly.

"However," he said, grinning his evil grin, "you will kick the stool." I saw Jordan's eyes widen with shock and horror. Mine did as well. Jordan, kick the stool? He was forcing her to be directly responsible for my death, and she could do nothing about it. Tears slid down my cheeks as I though of the guilt that she would experience. I knew she wouldn't be able to handle it, knew that she would now die miserable, thinking that it had been her fault that I had been killed, her fault in more ways than one. She looked at me desperately, tears on her face as well, and I squeezed her hand. She needed help with this.

"It's alright love," I said shakily.

_God, I'm so sorry Jordan…_

She looked back at Mitchell, and I knew that she was looking for him to show some sign of humanity, for some shred of hope, but she found none. She turned back to me and I gave her hand another warm squeeze as well as a nod. She paused for one last moment, and then placed a foot on the edge of the stool. I braced myself.

"I'm sorry," she said. The stool fell away.

I felt instant pain on my neck and throat. I gasped as my air supply was suddenly cut off and kicked my feet hopelessly, searching for the stool that was sitting uselessly three feet to my right. I stopped flailing my legs, and yet continued to gasp as I hung there, dying. Jordan was holding my hand very tightly, still crying. I engulfed myself in the warmth of her grip as my world began to grow blurry. I was suddenly struck with the odd idea that I should close my eyes. It was strange, but I realized that I didn't want Jordan to see me dead, my body hanging limply, with my eyes open. I knew how creepy it was when one of the corpses at the morgue stared at you, and seeing me like that would surely push her over the edge. So I took one last look at Jordan's tear stained face, and then closed my eyes, squeezing her hand again to let her know that I was still alive. I felt her squeeze back. I was still gasping, still making terrible rasping noises that surely must have been scaring Jordan to death, but hell, I was hurting. And I was scared. I felt my consciousness begin to leave me, and I prepared myself for death. I could hear Jordan sobbing. We exchanged one last squeeze each.

_I love you Jordan…_

Then I passed out.

**- Jordan -**

The moment the stool left his feet, Nigel began to gasp and choke. We clutched at each other's hands again as his feet kicked wildly, searching for something to support him. My tears turned to sobs as Nigel stopped kicking and looked at me. We made eye contact for a moment, and then he closed his eyes, still gasping, giving my hand a squeeze. I knew that he didn't have much time left. It would be over in a few seconds. I could see how much he was suffering, and I would have given anything to have taken his place at that moment. He gave my hand one last squeeze, and I returned it. Then his body went slack, hanging limply. It was over.

I sunk, shaking, to the floor, my arm raised above my head, still clutching Nigel's limp fingers. He was gone, I knew it. Nigel was lost, and it was all my fault. If he hadn't come looking for me, trying to rescue me, he would still be alive right now. I was numb again, my brain trying to accept what was going on. Those few seconds were the worst. I just couldn't believe that he was dead, just couldn't accept it. Nothing seemed to go through me except disbelief, and it seemed to last forever.

_He can't be gone…_

Then a sudden crash and shouting interrupted m thoughts. I spun around to see five or so men swarming through the doorway, shooting at Mitchell, who was shooting back. Instantly, I dove at the stool lying a few feet away. I got on it and frantically undid the knot in the rope holding Nigel. It came loose, and I just managed to prevent his limp form from slumping to the floor. I lowered him gently and lay him on the ground. He wasn't breathing.

"Nigel, please," I said frantically. I brought my mouth to his and blew air into his lungs. His chest rose. "Come on Nigel, don't do this to me." I thrust the heel of my hand into his chest several times. Still he did not start breathing. I repeated the process, forcing air into Nigel's lungs and then doing chest thrusts with my hand, silently praying all the while that it would work, that he would breathe. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I continued to sob. Shooting was still echoing behind me, but I ignored it. All that mattered was Nigel.

_Please Nigel. I need you. Don't leave me now. I love you…_

Then, as I began to administer chest thrusts for what felt like the twentieth time, it happened. Nigel moved and coughed. His eyes remained closed as he gasped for air. He was alive.

"Nigel," I said breathlessly. "Oh God…"

"Jordan," he whispered weakly, and a wave of relief swept over me, so overpowering, that for a moment I couldn't respond. And then, tears still falling furiously, I smiled, taking his hand in mine. He clutched it tightly.

"Hey," I said softly. Nigel looked around weakly.

"I'm alive?" he asked finally. My smile widened.

"Yes," I said. "You're alive Nigel. You gave me quite a scare though." I stroked his hair gently. The shooting had stopped; Mitchell lay dead on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood.

"How?" he asked, bringing a hand up and rubbing his neck, still breathing deeply.

"We were rescued," I said simply. An officer came over to see if we were alright. I told him we were, but we would need a hospital. He nodded and made a call on his radio. I helped Nigel slowly sit up, then stand. Then he put his arms around me and I did the same. I cried into his shoulder for a minute, savoring his embrace and his warmth, before we made our slow way out of the basement.

"Jordan!" As we stepped out of the house and into a burst of sunlight, I saw Lily, Bug, and Garret running towards us. "Jordan!" Lily yelled again. My smile widened. She ran strait to me and gave me a hug, holding tightly. "Jordan," she said shakily. She was crying. "We thought for sure that you were dead. And then when we heard an officer call for an ambulance, oh God…" She broke away and I found tears in my eyes as well. Now Garret rapped his arms around me while Lily moved on to Nigel. He held me just as tightly, and I was surprised to feel my shoulder become slightly wet. Garret just wasn't the sort to cry. He pulled away, wiping his eyes furiously.

"No more of this alright?" he said. "If something had happened to you…" He didn't finish the sentence, and I smiled at him. I suddenly realized how weak and tired I was. Lily gasped as I almost collapsed and grabbed Garret's shoulders for support. He caught me and lowered me gently to the ground.

"We need help over here!" he yelled as I lay in his arms. Nigel bent down and gripped my hand.

"I'm alright," I said softly. "Just weak." I realized that I would probably pass out soon, I hadn't eaten since the bread and water more than eight hours ago. I could see people running towards us with stretchers.

"Nigel, what happened to your neck?" asked Bug suddenly.

Nigel looked at me and said, "I believe that's a tale for another time." We smiled at each other. Then I closed my eyes and let unconsciousness take over.

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Tada! He didn't die. I wouldn't do that to Nigel. (At least, not in this fic...) Still a few chapters to come I think. And I truly appreciate the reviews. 


	9. Something Between Us

**eternalgorithm- YES! I have completed my goal in life of converting someone into a N/J shipper! HAHA! uh...yeah. sry. Hehe...**

**Mac3- I have a few other ideas for fanfics, and one possible sequal to this one, but it's still in the very, very earliest stages. I may try and start it, just to see how it goes though. I definaltely plan to write more, though I am currently supposed to be working on a short story for the school paper. Haven't got a clue what to do yet. I also have like three books that I gotta read. So another story may take awhile to start. I will try and start another one sooner rather than later though.**

**KittyDoggyLover- Yeah, I didn't plan on having Nigel die, at least not in _this _fanfic. (Hehe...) It's easy to get away with writing in school. At worst the teachers think it's homework. And then if I let someone read it, they're all like, you should get it published, and then I have to explain that it won't work because I don't own the characters. Then they're all like, well you should send it to the show writers so they can make it an episode! By then I stop trying to explain. Lol. No one I know watches CJ, let alone writes/reads fanfic for it. Though it is an adult show, and I'm only in eighth grade. (Not even in high school yet! Grr...)**

I think this is the second to last chapter, so it will end with chapter 10. Most likely. YAY! Digger Part II is on A&E tonight! Hehe. I love that episode, especially the music for it! (Note on Digger Part I: POOR CLOE!) Review please!

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 9: Something Between Us**

**- Nigel -**

We were transported to the hospital together. Even though she was unconscious, I held Jordan's hand the whole time. She actually woke up once on our way there. I told her to go back to sleep. She needed rest. I must have needed it too, because I passed out as well. I woke up in a hospital bed hours later. The first thing I heard was the gentle, yet irritating _beep, beep _of the heart monitor. Jordan lay in a bed next to mine, fast asleep. She was close, and I smiled and reached a hand out to stroke her long hair. She looked just as peaceful as when she had fallen asleep while I was at her apartment. How long ago had that been? I never bothered to check the date. As I stroked her softly, Jordan opened her eyes and smiled at me.

"Sorry love," I said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already awake," she said just as softly. She looked at the large red mark on my neck. "You're going to have a scar there." I shrugged.

"It's not a big deal," I said. "Small price to pay. Thank you by the way. I didn't get a chance to say it before. You saved my life." She took my hand, which was still stroking her hair, in hers.

"I thought that you had left me," she said shakily. "There's no way to tell you how much relief I felt when you said my name." Her eyes were wet and she looked tired again. I gave her hand a squeeze.

"Then don't," I said softly. "Don't try and tell me. Just rest now Jordan. Go back to sleep." She nodded and snuggled into her pillows. I followed suit, and fell asleep as well, still holding her hand.

We left the hospital a few days later. Everyone was there to see us as we walked out of the room, hand in hand. Lily, Bug, Dr. Macy, Max, and, to my great surprise, Woody. My eyes narrowed. What business did he have here? Jordan ran ahead to give her dad a hug. I smiled as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her to him. They were both crying again.

"What happened?" he asked as they pulled away from each other. "And…my God Nigel, what the hell happened to your neck?" Jordan and I looked at each other.

"We should probably sit down," I said. We all took a seat in the waiting room. Some of us went to get coffee. Jordan waited until everyone returned before starting the story. She told us how Mitchell had hidden in her car, how he had ordered her to drive away, and the twisted route that they took to his hideout. We all listened with baited breath, taking the occasional sip of coffee. Even I was listening, for this part of the tale was new to me. She described the basement with such chilling accuracy that many of those around us sat, wide-eyed, horrified at the conditions of what turned out to be our living space for, as we found out, over a week. The coffee slowly vanished as I began to tell of how Woody called and gave me the possible location of Jordan's captor. I described how I had gone after him, how I had knocked on doors and eventually found the right one. How I had found Jordan in the dark.

When I came to the part where Mitchell told us how and, in my case, when we were going to die, Lily gasped, tears sliding down her face. Bug slid over on the couch and put his arm over her shoulders. I continued, telling of how I had been hung and fell unconscious. Then Jordan took over and explained how the police had stormed in only seconds after I passed out, how she had administered CPR until I woke up. She talked all the way up to the point where we had walked out and they had found us.

Then it was their turn to talk. They told us that long after I had left, they started searching for me, obviously to no avail. They let it go for a day, deciding that I had probably gone to a bar or something. It was when they still couldn't locate me later that they became worried. Yet days of searching found neither me nor Jordan. Then, awhile later, someone had been smart and wondered why Woody hadn't called yet. Of course when they inquired about this, he said that he had already told me the location. They could guess where I was from then on, and so called on the police to come and get us, though no one had expected us to be alive. There had been no hostage upstairs either. Mitchell, of course, had lied.

"So," said Max as they finished their story, "is something going on between you two now?" I grinned, having completely forgotten that the others didn't know. Jordan and I had been sitting very close together during the hour or so that we told our stories. Apparently Max had been the only one to notice however, because the others seemed mildly surprised. Lily spun to look at him, and then back at us. Both Garret and Bug raised their eyebrows. Only Woody did not change his expression. Jordan and I looked at each other again. She was smiling as well.

"Yes," I said, still looking at her. "I do believe there is something." I suddenly pulled her towards me and kissed her. I was mildly surprised that she didn't pull away. Instead, she committed to the kiss with as much passion as she had just before I was hung. I could feel the stunned gazes of the others on us, and laughed mentally as I imagined their expressions. Especially Woody's.

We broke away and I looked at the others, this time laughing aloud. Max was smiling, Lily looked slightly surprised, but was smiling as well. Garret still had his eyebrows raised, and Bug had a ridiculous look on his face, eyes wide and mouth open. Woody simply stared at the pair of us, his face unreadable. But I didn't care what he thought about it. I knew that things would be slightly different from now on.

**- Jordan -**

Nigel and I made our way out of the hospital room, holding hands and smiling at those who came to see us. Even Dad and Woody were there. I ran to give my Dad a hug, although I wondered why Woody was there. Nigel had told me about their phone conversation, about how he seemed unconcerned with my kidnapping. Why was he here now?

"Hey baby girl," Dad whispered as we hugged. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you." His voice became shaky and tears fell down his face as we stood there. My face was wet as well. I had thought about him, wondered if he would be able to handle my death as well as Mom's, handle the knowledge of the torture I'd endured before I left. I didn't think he could handle it. I was glad it never happened.

When we broke apart, Dad said, "What happened? And…my God Nigel, what the hell happened to your neck?" We spent the next hour telling our stories and listening to everyone else tell their's.

After everyone had finally finished, Dad said, "So, is something going on between you two now?" Oops. Nigel and I were sitting very close, and I had forgotten that the others still had no clue about us, about our new relationship. I could tell that Nigel had forgotten also. Leave it to Daddy to point it out, to be the only one to notice. Nigel and I turned to each other, both grinning.

"Yes," he said, almost to me it seemed. "I do believe there is something." Suddenly his arms were around me, our lips together in a kiss. I was so shocked, as was everyone else I was sure, that for a split second I considered pulling away. But then I thought of Woody, and it struck me that he was probably here to try and patch things us between us. If I pulled away, it would look like I wasn't serious about my relationship with Nigel, which I was. I was not going to run away. I felt no need to. So I kissed him back, deeply. Yes, I was serious about my relationship.

I looked at the others as we moved apart. Lily and Dad were smiling. Garret had his eyebrows raised, and Bug just looked bewildered. Woody's expression didn't change at all. There was no way to tell what he was feeling. We made eye contact for a moment, but I quickly looked away. He would not tear Nigel and I apart. Not now.

After yet another moment of stunned silence, Nigel looked around and said, "Well, we've been here awhile. Shouldn't we be going?"

"Yes," said Dad. "I've got to be off." He walked over and gave me another hug and whispered, "I'm happy for you Jordan," before walking out the door. It was late. The others began to leave as well, throwing away their empty coffee cups and heading towards the door. Lily and Garret both gave me another hug and wished me luck before beginning to leave. As Nigel and I also made ready to go, I noticed that Woody was hanging back. Oh no, I thought. He was going to say something to me. He cleared his throat almost on cue.

"Jordan," he said, "could I have a word?" I nodded and told Nigel that I would be right with him. He nodded, but looked a little worried. I squeezed his hand gently before walking up to Woody, prepared for whatever he was going to say.

"Jordan," he said.

"What?" I said stiffly.

"You can cut the act now."

"What?"

"Oh come on!" he said impatiently. "I know why you're doing this." I raised my eyebrows.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do. You're trying to get me jealous. I mean, you and Nigel? Get serious Jordan." I could tell that Nigel, who was sipping a new cup of coffee on the other side of the room, was listening, because his free hand was clenched in a fist and his jaw was set. He didn't say anything however, and I felt my admiration for him rise along with my anger at Woody. Unlike him, I was not so good at holding my tongue.

"You son of a bitch," I said, doing my best not to raise my voice. "Did it never occur to you that Nigel is a real person? Did you never once realize that he has feelings like me and you? That he has a life? He's not a resource Woody! He's not simply there to solve computer problems, even if that's the way I've wrongly treated him all this time. We have been through something that you can't possibly understand, and never will. He loves me Woody. He's loved me for years, and I never paid him any attention. Yet he was patient. He waited. He didn't pressure me like you did. In fact, I probably would have fallen in love with him a lot sooner if you hadn't gotten in the way. I don't feel as if I need to push him away. For the first time, I don't want to run! I want to stay right here." Woody was looking thoroughly shocked by now, having not expected the angry speech I was giving him now. But I didn't stop there.

"And let's not forget our last fight," I continued. "I will never, never forgive you for that Woodrow Hoyt, for what you said about me and about my family, and now what you just said about Nigel. And who was there when you sent me away sobbing? Who had his arm around me, giving me support and comfort? Nigel was, Woody. And he will from now on. Because this is no act." My face was red and streaked with fresh tears. I turned my back on Woody.

"You can't hold a grudge forever Jordan!" he called from behind me. I turned and looked at him again.

"Try me," I said simply, and then returned to Nigel, who put his arm around me comfortingly, not saying a word. Together we made our way outside, leaving Woody behind in more ways than one.

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Last chapter coming next! 


	10. Back Again

**eternalgorithm- lol. yes, that's my CJ philosophy.**

**Mac3- yes, I'm thinking about starting a new story very soon!**

**rae1112- lol. I can Nigel saying that as well. It paints a funny picture. **

**KittyDoggyLover- Thank you. Yeah, I'm only an eighth grader, and middle school is really really annoying! I wish I were in high school. At first, I had no idea how old the people here were! Or at least the people in the CJ section. Then I saw some profiles that gave age and I was like, holy crap I'm surrounded by old people! (Not old, just older than me.) lol. **

**Silver Snape Silk- N/J 4 EVER! (Hehe...)**

**NadezhdaSt- Thank you for the talent comment. I realized my misjudgement, but I had messed with the story a lot on the editor here instead of the original document and didn't feel like editing the whole thing over again. I've edited it for the copy I let my friends read though. Oh, and you're right. cliffies are way more fun when you have the next chapter right in front of you. Lol.**

Well, this is it, the big one, the one we've all been waiting for! (Sorry, Harry Potter quote for those of you who caught it.) Anyways, the last chapter. I'd still appreciate reviews and I've got an idea for another fic. It may be coming soon. It was a half day of school today (and we spent the whole time taking the ACT explore test, blah) and I have no school tomorrow, so I may start really soon. Enjoy the final chapter!

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**The Basement**

**Chapter 10: Back Again  
**

**- Nigel -**

I stood by the door, sipping a fresh cup of coffee. My other hand was balled into a fist and my teeth clenched. It took all of my willpower not to say something to Woody, who was clearly audible across the room. Then Jordan began to talk, and I was surprised, and pleased, with the way that she defended me. I felt the same when she said that she had no desire to run away, the way she'd done in every other relationship of hers. She went on to talk about what Woody had said the day I found her crying in her office.

"For what you said about me and about my family." So far this was the most detailed account of what had happened that I'd heard so far, for Jordan had never told me exactly what Woody had said to her. Yet if it was about her and her family, then it made sense that she would be extremely upset by it. I glared inwardly at him. Jordan's little speech lasted over a minute. When she was done, she turned her back and walked towards me.

"You can't hold a grudge forever Jordan!" I heard Woody call. I almost snorted. Yeah right. This was Jordan he was talking to. She could hold a grudge as long as she wanted to. He just had to look at her old grudge against Detective Winslow to know that. She turned back to him.

"Try me," she said. She turned again and walked up to me. I didn't say anything, simply put my arm around her and we walked out together. The others were all gone by now, and it was pouring rain. I turned to Jordan.

"Where to?" I said loudly over the sound of the storm.

"My apartment?" she suggested. I nodded and called a cab. Neither of us had vehicles anymore. I paid the driver when we pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. We sprinted through the downpour and inside, and both of us were soaked as we stepped into Jordan's apartment. She turned to me and smiled.

"I can order Chinese if you want. And I bought some more root beer." I laughed.

"Sounds good love." What I really wanted was things to be back to normal, the way they were before Jordan was kidnapped. Well, normal with the exception of Jordan and I being together. She returned from the fridge with two cans of root beer.

"We're going to be a little wet though," she said apologetically. "I don't have anything dry to offer you.

"We could always just take our clothes off and hang them up to dry," I said teasingly, putting my wet arms around her. She smiled.

"I'll pass if that's okay Nige," she said. "I'm not running," she added quickly. "No, not at all. It's just, I'm not ready. It's too soon, especially after…well, yeah. Can I take advantage of your patience one more time?"

"Course you can love," I said. "I understand." She laid her head on my shoulder.

"Thanks Nige."

"You're welcome love."

It was just like the night before Jordan's kidnapping, except that she and I were much closer than before. This made it much more enjoyable as we talked, laughed, ate, drank, and messed with each other the way that only we could. Our clothes gradually dried out as we went on into the night. We later stopped talking and watched a movie together, her head resting on my shoulder again, my arm around her. Eventually I noticed that her eyes were closed. I couldn't tell whether or not she was asleep.

"Love?" I asked softly.

"Mmm?" she mumbled.

"You want to go to bed now?"

"Yeah." I got up and gently lifted her off the couch for the second time. She seemed thinner than before.

"Nige," she said as I laid her softly on the bed. "Stay with me?"

"Of course love," I said, stroking her hair softly. I pulled back the covers and slid in next to her. Our clothes were dry by now, and I gently wrapped my arms around her in a familiar way. It was nearly the same fashion in which we had slept in the basement, except that we were lying down. She took hold of one of my hands and I squeezed it warmly. She turned her head slightly and we kissed again.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too Jordan," I whispered back. "More than anything."

**- Jordan -**

I awoke late the next morning, Nigel's arms still around me warmly and my clothes still firmly in place. I smiled. If I had gone to bed with Woody somehow I doubted the outcome would have been the same. Nigel stirred.

"Good morning love," he said sleepily.

"Hey Nige," I said. "Do we have work today?" It was at that moment that my phone rang. I groaned and reached to pick it up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Jordan?"

"Hey Garret."

"Hi Jordan. Listen, I wouldn't normally do this to you, and I feel terrible about it, especially since you just got home. But there was an accident and we really need you here. And Nigel if he's with you."

"He is." I said. "Don't worry about it Garret, we'll be there."

"Thanks Jordan."

"See you Gar." I switched off the phone and, after replacing it back on the table, slid out of bed.

"Going somewhere love?" Nigel asked.

"They need us at the morgue," I said. "Accident." Nigel sighed.

"Alright love, I'm up." He pulled himself out of bed as well and stretched. "I should probably change," he said.

"We both should," I agreed.

"How about I take a cab home and meet you at work?" he suggested. I nodded. This was a practical plan, though I was reluctant to leave Nigel. As though he sensed something was wrong, his face fell slightly and he moved towards me.

"You alright love?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said quickly, smiling to cover my reluctance, but he continued to look worried. "We can go together if you like Jordan," he said, but I shook my head.

"No," I said. "It's alright. You go. I'll meet you at work." He nodded, and, his hands at my waist, leaned forward to give me a kiss goodbye. I accepted it gladly.

"Call if you get to work first," he said. I nodded.

"Bye Nigel."

"Bye love. Be safe." He left, taking one last look at me on the way out. I sighed as he shut the door behind him. Then I walked to my closet and began to pick out some clothes for the day.

I was fidgeting as I walked outside to get a cab. No one could blame me, considering what had happened the last time I was out alone. I knew that when I eventually got a new car, I would find myself looking into the back seat every time I got into it. The first part of this thought became unnecessary however as the taxi pulled into the morgue parking lot and I saw my car sitting in its usual place. I paid the driver and got out, staring at my car, eyes wide. What was it doing here? I'd figured that Mitchell probably sent it over a bridge or something. Yet here it was, good as new. I stared for a moment, and then walked cautiously up to it, peering through the window. It was mine. I had known that instantly from the license plate, but I had to settle it. All of my stuff was laid out on the seats the way it was before.

"Surprised?" I turned to see Nigel standing in the doorway, grinning his usual grin. He had beaten me here somehow.

"Yeah, I am," I said, still staring at my car.

"Police found it a mile or so from Mitchell's hideout. They got my motorcycle too. It was still sitting where I had parked it." I turned to him, smiling as well.

"Wow," I said. "Our luck seems to have changed at last."

"It sure has love," he said, walking up to me. We stared into each other's eyes for a moment, the way we had done before in the basement. Then, Nigel's hands at my waist and mine at his neck, our lips came gently together again. It was easier to kiss Nigel than it had been with Woody, or anyone else for that matter. I knew it would take me awhile to get over what had happened in the basement, and it would be a long road for the both of us. I would remember it every time I saw the scar on his neck. But I also knew that I would never have to go it alone. Nigel would see to that.

Our kiss ended and we stood smiling at each other for a moment. Then we made our way through the morgue's front doors, back to our daily jobs, hand in hand once more.

**- THE END -**


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